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There are two things I'm working on in my life. (Okay, there are more than two things. But these are the most important things.)
First, I'm working on my back squat form. Currently, I'm stuck in what I call a “
stripper dancer back squat,” which is not something I feel comfortable trying to illustrate with a photo; so I'll call it my “stretching kitten” back squat so you can better visualize the problem.
Rather than driving up through my heels and lifting as one bodily unit, all hinges operating in synch, I tend to first slightly elevate the booty and then kind of ratchet the rest of my upper body into place as I ascend with the bar. It's subtle, but it's also stupid, and it needs to be fixed.
(It doesn't “need fixed.” It needs to be fixed. Your clothes don't “need washed;” they need to be washed. My lawn doesn't “need mowed;” it needs to be mowed.)
The second thing I'm working on is our family garden. And by “working on,” I mean “sucking at.” We planted a range of heirloom veggies – some from seedlings, some directly planted – and, if you'd like to know just how it's all going, I shall refer you back to my post title.
So far, I've gotten one salad's worth of arugula (that was weeks back) and…this tiny little beet. The avocado is for size comparison.
I'll have you know that I carefully peeled, sliced, and ate that tiny thumb-sized beet. It was delicious. I savored it. And then I googled “Viagra for Vegetables,” because my garden is in dire need of some enhancement. (Know what popped up?* Monsanto. Just kidding.)
I'll keep working until I get this garden thing right, but this is yet another reminder that vegetables are almost an extravagance. The produce section at Whole Foods and the local Farm Market are most definitely luxuries. If we wanted to feed ourselves all by ourselves, I can't imagine most of us could do it effectively on plants alone, both because gardens are difficult and vegetables aren't calorie-dense.
Yet I imagine it'd be fairly hard to screw up a cow on grass, and it'd provide far more calories. (Especially if you made long-term use of it by drinking its milk instead of slaughtering it for the meat. But that's a whole ‘nother can o' non-Paleo worms.) No, my assertions aren't fully developed. But I have a hunch.
By the way – I wrote a little about dairy in this post.
At this point, I think my (garden) problem is threefold: lack of bees to pollinate my Garden of Sadness, a pronounced green thumb deficiency, and perhaps nutrient-poor backyard soil. Anybody want to come over and fix
me my garden?
*Bad male enhancement joke.
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